


It's hard to be quiet

by coconutcranberries (orphan_account)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Library, Attempt at Humor, F/M, Fluff, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-15
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-08 20:50:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1137233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/coconutcranberries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Scott, I have exactly seven days to get Derek to change his mind and you're suggesting that I bring him cookies."</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's hard to be quiet

**Author's Note:**

> I was bored? That's the only explanation I can offer you people of earth, for this fic, which i hope you enjoy anyway :) It pales in comparison to the likes of Stilinskisparkles (new fic was amazing as per usual) but I like it anyway! Let me know if you like it :) Happy reading! :3

Erica pops her gum for the fourth time in a single minute and Stiles is seized with the temptation to stop struggling with his tie and just strangle her with it. It’s pretty empty in here, so nobody would really notice. He settles for a glare instead, tugging vainly at the shiny blue material. Erica smirks from her seat in the computer chair like she knows exactly what she’s doing to him and has planned it all out, right down to his mental breakdown. It wouldn’t surprise Stiles if that were true. 

“Excuse me, I’d like to return this please,” Stiles turns to assist the girl, but Erica gets there first, smiling blindingly as she takes the book out of her hands. It’s probably a good thing considering Stiles has one hand caught in his tie and the other wrapped around a paper cup full of tea, which he hasn’t even had time to drink yet. 

Erica waits for the girl to leave before dropping the book on the trolley next to their desk, snorting at Stiles’ presumably manic expression. 

“Don’t just stand there,” he hisses, trying to gesture and wincing in regret, “help me!” Erica snorts again and gets up, stalking towards him in a way that he really, really doesn’t appreciate. He’s already in a complete mess; he doesn’t need an awkward boner or the threat of a black eye from Boyd to add to it. 

“Try not to look so predatory, you’re a librarian, not a werewolf,” he snaps, flailing his hand about again. He cries out as his tea splashes everywhere, spilling all down his clean, white shirt and splattering up the computer screen. Erica barks out a laugh that is too loud for a library, but Stiles is too busy sighing mournfully over the loss of both his drink and his shirt to tell her to be quiet. Not that she would shut up even if he pleaded with her. 

“God, Stiles, why did I ever have a crush on you?” she grins brightly, tossing her blonde hair around like it’s some kind of shampoo advert and stealing his empty cup from him. 

“Hey, I’ve been informed by numerous people that clumsiness and a severe lack of muscles is cute, okay, so don’t be jealous just because your boyfriend doesn’t have this kind of body.” He gestures one hand over his torso, trying to avoid the tea stain and failing miserably because it’s just everywhere, it’s invading his clothes. 

“Are you sure it wasn’t your reflection telling you that, Stilinski?” 

Erica’s face lights up immediately at the comment, twisting around to beam at Boyd over the back of the desk. Boyd smiles back and it makes him look less like an immovable mountain, which is nice. Stiles rolls his eyes at the sappy display and finally frees his fingers. He whoops in triumph and then slaps a hand over his mouth halfway through, the sound dying in his throat. 

All three of them wait anxiously for approximately five seconds before they hear the bang of a door opening at the back of the library. Stiles winces, groaning and Erica pats his head sympathetically, looking amused. 

“Don’t worry Stiles, I’m sure he won’t kill you. Maybe maim you a little bit, break a few bones, but you might be alive at the end of it, if you’re lucky!” Erica swings open the little gate on the side of the desk, hopping out and waving at Stiles as she leaves for her lunch break. Boyd has the audacity to grin at him, before following Erica out of the doors. Stiles feels utterly betrayed for about one millisecond before he realises that he would have done the exact same thing in their position. 

The sound of angry footsteps grows louder and Stiles doesn’t even bother to be gentle about slamming his head against the desk. 

“Stilinski!” Derek barks, striding into view from behind the bookshelves. He looks furious, but Stiles actually thinks he’s seen him look worse, so maybe Erica is right. 

“Maybe he won’t kill me,” he breathes in relief, eyes widening when Derek stops, blinking at him before advancing again. Apparently he said that louder than he meant to. He looking less angry than he did before, which isn’t saying much but still; Stiles will take what he can get. 

Derek comes to a stop in front of the desk, looming over Stiles in a way that hardly seems fair when Stiles is only a few inches shorter than him. Derek just seems to have this presence that makes him taller, more imposing and intimidating. Not to mention the fact that he’s absolutely drop-dead, model-worthy, drool-inducing gorgeous. Stiles hates that word, but there really isn’t any other way to describe Derek Hale.

Well, there are, but he doesn’t feel comfortable thinking them in a library. His filter always breaks in the most inappropriate of places. 

Stiles offers up a weak smile that wilts under Derek’s glare. 

“Hey there boss-man! You need something doing? I know how to use the printer now and the stapler isn’t broken anymore, but that’s because Erica figured out that we needed to put actual staples in there-”

“Stiles, shut up,” Derek cuts him off, breathing deeply through his nose and rubbing at his temples. Stiles is tempted to offer him some of the pain relief tablets they keep under the desk, but figures that’s only going to get him closer to being fired. He really doesn’t want to get fired. 

Derek sighs, focusing on him. “Look, I just need you to stick to the damn rules.” Stiles blinks in surprise and then relief, practically sagging against the chair. He hears a sudden bang from the corner of the room and whips round to check who it is, but it’s just a couple of kids that have knocked over a chair. A woman, presumably the mum, hurries over to grab her kids, mouthing an apology in their direction. Stiles waves it away dismissively, smiling at the tired-looking lady before turning back to watch Derek.

Derek who is staring at him. With an expression that Stiles cannot read. Stiles didn’t even know Derek could do that with his face, seeing as his default expression is usually indifference, frowning or sarcastic. Although there was that one time he saw Derek laughing when he was on his phone a couple of months ago. Stiles actually tripped into a bookcase in surprise. 

“Stiles are you even listening to me? Because if not I might actually fire you.” Derek is glaring at him with gritted teeth and Stiles flails. Apparently, this is a sure sign that he wasn’t listening.

“Goddamnit Stilinski! This is a library, you’re supposed to be quiet,” Derek hisses, making Stiles shrink back in his seat. “You’re supposed to come in on time, which you make a habit of not doing. You’re supposed to wear presentable clothes,” he gestures angrily at Stiles’ soaked shirt and undone tie before continuing, “You don’t do any of these things and you don’t even have the decency to listen to me when I’m talking to you.” Derek is breathing heavily at the end and if it were happening to anyone else, Stiles might find it funny. It really isn’t funny, especially when Derek says the next thing. 

“You’re fired. You have one weeks’ notice to get everything in order and look for another job, but then I want you to leave.” Stiles splutters something intelligible, but Derek is already turning around. He scrambles out of his chair, planning on chasing Derek down and pleading for him to change his mind. He’s stopped as he opens the gate by a flood of people entering the doors. The clock says ten past three, so even more college students are going to follow soon. 

Groaning, he trudges back to the seat and drops into it. He pulls a smile onto his face as the mother of the two kids comes rushing over, yanking her children behind her and resolves to talk to Derek tomorrow. 

 

"Scott, I have exactly seven days to get Derek to change his mind and you're suggesting that I bring him cookies." Stiles pulls the phone away from his ear to stare at it incredulously. He knows that’s what Scott said, he’s just having trouble processing the words. 

Scott sounds defensive when he answers. “It’s not a bad idea. Allison always forgives me when I bake her cookies.” 

“Yeah but Scott, buddy, that’s a completely different situation. You and Allison are together, you’re practically married. Derek and I? Not so much.”

“But you want to be,” Scott says slyly and Stiles narrows his eyes. He loves his best friend, but he also hates him. 

“I loathe you,” he mutters, pressing the buttons on the microwave so that his plate starts rotating inside. Scott laughs down the phone. 

“Maybe, but you don’t loathe Der-”

“Alright, alright!” Stiles interrupts loudly, ignoring Scott’s snickers. “Maybe I have slight feelings for Derek, but those will go away if I just ignore them. That’s not the issue here anyway dude, I need this job!” 

The microwave pings happily and Stiles drags his plate out, hissing when he burns his fingers. He sucks them into his mouth and listens to Scott prattle on as he waits for his food to cool down. 

“Look, Stiles, you don't need that job,” Scott says firmly. “I know you said it was pretty good and it paid alright, but it’s not like there aren’t other jobs. Oh! I know!” Stiles freezes uneasily, because that sounds awfully like Scott’s just had an idea. Scott isn’t stupid, far from it, and he’s gotten them out of some tight spots before by thinking quickly. But Stiles has still learnt to fear that tone. 

“What do you know?” he askes warily, sticking a fork into the mush that’s supposed to be curry. He doesn’t trust microwaveable meals exactly, but life as boy that’s fresh out of college is full of risks. 

“Isaac was talking about needing help at the gym! They just got rid of the new kid that was working there, I think his name was Greenburg or something, and they need someone else. What do you think? I can call Isaac and tell him you’re looking for a job if you like? Plus, it might make Derek jealous or something.” 

“Yeah, because working in a gym is such a step up from working in the library Your logic makes literally no sense to anyone outside of your brain.” He snorts, giving up on the curry and digging through the fridge for an apple. “You know what, yeah, tell Isaac I’ll take it, if the offer’s still there.” 

Scott makes a happy sound through the line and Stiles grins, picturing him wiggling about like a puppy and smiling goofily. 

“Maybe you should do the cookies anyway? Just in case,” Scott adds in a way that's probably supposed to sound nonchalant. Stiles raises an eyebrow that Scott can’t see, but probably knows about nonetheless. 

“You just want to prove that cookies are a good idea and that you’re plans don’t suck. Hey, wait a second, you didn’t actually tell me what the job was?” Stiles is suddenly terrified and desperately hopes it doesn’t involve him doing actual exercise. 

“Didn’t I? They need a new janitor. Anyway, Stiles, gotta go, mum needs me to pick her up from work,” he hangs up in a hurry and Stiles closes his eyes in defeat, throwing the phone on the second-hand couch and collapsing next to it. He smothers his face into his pillow and considers never ever leaving his flat again. Burrowing deeper into the warmth, 

Stiles falls asleep with the image of Derek’s angry face lingering behind his eyelids. 

Stiles is late to his last shift at the library, which is a good indicator of why he really shouldn’t have been allowed to work there in the first place. He doesn’t bother with a tie this time, just wears a black t-shirt and jeans and avoids the coffee shop on his way. 

He had his interview the day after his phone call with Scott; apparently they really were desperate for staff. It went pretty well, which Stiles can’t decide whether to be happy or sad about and although Isaac had been an asshole at first, he’d simmered down at the end. He kind of looks a little bit like a baby angel, which is something Stiles will never admit to thinking ever, but is true nonetheless. 

Stiles jogs into the library, slowing to a more sedate pace and slipping into the empty seat behind the desk. He can see Erica further up by one of the bookshelves, slamming books into their empty spaces with slightly more force than necessary. He waves, but she doesn’t see him. 

The library is actually pretty busy for lunchtime on a Wednesday but, Stiles isn’t complaining. It keeps him from thinking about Derek, who has been conspicuously absent most of this last week. The one time that Stiles did see him, he blurted something about being offered a job elsewhere and then fled the scene like a bat out of hell. He supposes it isn’t surprising that Derek’s avoided him after that; he probably looked like he escaped from a mental asylum. 

Erica sulks over to him after an hour of taking her anger out on the books. She looks kind of miserable, which shocks him a bit. 

“Why are you looking at me like you’ll never see me again once I leave? And more importantly, why do you care?” Okay, so he probably could have worded that last bit differently, judging by the hurt in Erica’s expression. She straightens up though, narrowing her eyes at him. 

“I know you’re not stupid Stiles, even if you act like it sometimes.” Stiles waves his hands about and apologises hurriedly. 

“I didn’t mean it like that! I just didn’t think you’d take it so hard. I’m not dying, I just won’t be working here anymore. Which, let’s face it, is probably a good thing.” He grins at her, but she still looks miserable. 

“I just don’t see why you have to leave. I'm worse than you half the time and Derek hasn’t fired me. And I know you won’t be dying Stiles, but you won’t be here. There’s no way in hell you’re going to come back if you can help it, you’ll be too embarrassed.” 

“I will not!” he protests, trying to keep his voice low and just barely succeeding. Erica shoots him a knowing look that has Stiles sighing. 

“Please, you’ll be too humiliated to ever step foot in here again.” Boyd drawls from behind him and Stiles leaps three feet into the air in shock. He clasps a hand dramatically to his heart and wheezes. 

“That, is one thing that I will not miss at all. Why do you have to be so silent? Can’t you be normal and trip over a few things on your way here, face plant the floor a little bit?” Boyd gives him a droll look that changes to a fond one when Erica leans up to kiss him. 

“Keep it PG folks; we’re in a library, not a nightclub.” He chimes in cheerfully, grinning when Erica breaks away to laugh and wink at him. Boyd rolls his eyes and gestures towards the gate on their desk. 

“If Derek had any complaints, I’m sure he would let us know,” he says, sighing when they both look at him in confusion, “There’s a security camera in the gate.” 

Stiles freezes, mouth hanging open. Erica narrows her eyes at the innocent looking gate and then stares at Boyd. “How exactly do you know that?” Boyd shifts uncomfortably, avoiding their eyes and muttering something about Derek. Erica growls lightly under her breath and turns to face Stiles, who still feels kind of shocked. 

“Right Stilinski, I’ll man the fort, you go and talk to Derek.” Stiles jolts out of his stupor, and starts to whine in protest but Erica is having none of it. “Go and talk to Hale while I have a chat with my boyfriend.” Stiles flicks his eyes between Erica, who looks feral and Boyd, who’s looking for an emergency exit. Stiles wishes him luck and practically sprints for Derek’s office.

He doesn’t bother knocking when he reaches the door, just barges right in and slams the door shut behind him. Stiles flicks the lock shut and spins to face his boss, crossing his arms defensively across his chest. 

Derek sits frozen in his chair, eyes flicking guiltily over everything but Stiles. There are a series of computer screens on the wall and Stiles trails his eyes over them until he sees the one for the gate. He gets a direct view of Erica and Boyd arguing before the screen goes blank. Derek places a remote on the desk and opens his mouth hesitantly. Stiles cuts him off. 

“Do those things record sound as well?” He almost snarls when Derek nods, but manages to hold it in. Humiliation pools in his stomach and it must show on his face because Derek stands up, looking apologetic and guilty. 

“Stiles, I swear this wasn’t to embarrass you or invade your privacy. It’s a security matter and the inspectors we’ve had in insisted we install these cameras, to keep you safe. I wouldn’t have done it otherwise.”

Stiles thinks about arguing, but he has heard about a lot of public places doing the same thing, and it doesn’t seem like Derek had much of a choice. 

“It’s not so much of an issue, so much as you should have told us beforehand. I would have kept quiet about a lot more things if I’d known I was being listened to.” He winces, face burning as he thinks about all the times he’s talked about Derek. Oh, Jesus. He groans, burying his face in his hands. He’s called the man every name under the sun and ranted about him for hours on end to whoever he’s working with at the time. That would be bad enough, but he’s also said a lot of things regarding the way Derek looks. 

“I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable. And I…didn’t really mind the things you said.” Derek adds quietly, and Stiles snaps his head up so fast that his neck cracks loudly. He rubs at it, taking in the blush on Derek’s cheeks with wide eyes. Something tugs in his belly and his heart lodges itself in his throat as Derek takes a small step towards him. He doesn’t look intimidating or threatening now, but Stiles still feels his pulse flutter slightly in anticipation. 

“You didn’t mind?” he murmurs back, raising his eyes to meet Derek’s. Derek shakes his head, gaze fixed on Stiles. 

“Not at all,” he breathes. He’s close now, so close, their breath mixing together and then suddenly, Derek’s hand is on the back of his neck; a warm, heavy weight. Stiles inhales sharply as their lips press together fleetingly. It’s chaste and sweet, surprising but not unwelcome. It’s very, very welcome. 

Derek draws back a little. “I really am sorry though, I should have told you.” Stiles nods in agreement and then a question pops into his head. “Is that why you fired me? The crush and stuff? I mean, I get that it obviously doesn’t bother you,” he indicates the very small amount of space between them and smiles cheekily. Derek rolls his eyes, grinning slightly. 

“It doesn’t bother me. Obviously.” He leans back in and presses another kiss to his lips, quick enough that Stiles can’t respond. “Mostly I fired you because you really aren’t good at being a librarian. I don’t think it’s your calling. You’re supposed to be quiet.” 

Stiles scoffs but can’t help but agree. He honestly wasn’t that good. 

“I’m still pissed at you by the way,” He says warningly, stepping closer into Derek and stroking his hands up Derek’s arms, which, huge. “But, I’m willing to give you a chance to make it up to me. By that I mean dates, chocolate and lots and lots of sex. All the sex. Everywhere.” He grins up at Derek, sliding his hands through Derek’s hair and breathing him in. 

Derek curves an arm around his waist. “I think that can be arranged.”

Stiles’s grin turns wicked. “I would say we can start now but, someone told me that im not very good at keeping quiet in a library,” he brushes his lips over Derek’s mouth, darting back and unlocking the door, “so I guess we’ll just have to wait.” 

He hears Derek growl as he slips out of the door and heads back to the desk. The clock on his computer says he has a couple of hours left before his shift finishes. 

Plenty of time then, he thinks, letting a slow smile take over his face. There’s a perfectly good camera installed not a meter away from him and Stiles intends to use it. It might not be entirely appropriate to drop things nearby and bend over to pick them up, and Derek’s probably cursing all bananas in the world after Stiles has finished his lunch, but after all, Stiles has never been a particularly good librarian.

**Author's Note:**

> I am not very good at writing kisses (my attempts at smut are kind of terrifying) but I sincerely hope it did not break any brains :D Thanks friends!


End file.
